


Patience

by Hexes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal isn't as subtle as he thinks he is, Implied Bloodplay, Implied Cannibalism, Implied Stalking, M/M, Manipulative Behavior, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Scene Extension, Sick Will, Will suspects, academic citation included, accidentally science heavy, character investigation, implied dub-con, no beta we die like men, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexes/pseuds/Hexes
Summary: Will responds to the sedatives Hannibal has given him in an unexpected fashion.S1:E7 scene extension





	Patience

"I'll keep that in mind if another body drops," Will offered, flippantly, looking contemplatively at his wine. It was a rosé of some description, slightly fruity, yet still dry. The nose was quite pleasant. The colour of the wine was a beautiful counterpoint to the deep, bloody burgundy of Hannibal's impeccably tailored dress shirt. Will blinked, shaking his head as though to unsettle a fly.

"Please, do," Hannibal responded, his eyes crinkled up sweetly at the corners, his legs crossed over at the knees, elegantly casual. He looked pointedly at Will, licking his lips ravenously. The talk had stoked his appetite, the delicate machination of Will's throat as he swallowed the wine, pleased with the vintage, no matter how strange or unknown it was to him. The younger man looked delightfully rumpled. He had been dressing a little more neatly than when Hannibal had first started seeing him, but he was still too wrapped up in his head to take meticulous care of his appearance. It was a trait that Hannibal regarded as being on the dangerous precipice of _ cute_. 

Hannibal sat forward, the pinstriping on his suit keeping his lines aristocratic as Will blinked owlishly at him. Hannibal gazed upon his design, his dear Will. What he wouldn't give to feed the beautiful man from his own hand. Provide the vicious, delicate creature with sustenance, nourish him with the flesh of the weak, those too useless but for their ability to sustain others. Hannibal smiled, indulgent and warm, indolent in his fantasy. The other man squinted and shuffled, unsure of the flirtatious behaviour.

Will meandered back to his seat, weaving slightly as he sat the wine glass aside gently, falling into a heap on the chair. Already, he was beginning to sway with the sedative that Hannibal had swiped on the lip of the glass. 

He really was lovely, his lids fluttering as he settled back into the chair, unspooling like a skein of yarn. Will draped his arms over those of the chair, looking accusingly at the wine glass. He turned to look at Hannibal, the movement lethargic and endearing for it. 

"I think he's eating them," he slurred, succinctly. Will nodded resolutely. "Dunno why, though," he mused aloud, "maybe because of what we saw in Minnesota." Hannibal tilted his head, a pleasant, bemused smirk turning his mouth up at the sides. "S' uncommon for people to keep jars of kidneys or what have you in their living rooms." Will nodded again. 

"Why eating, then, instead of, perhaps, treating as leather, to wear?" Hannibal was genuinely curious about how Will viewed him. 

"Too gauche." Will looked affronted on the behalf of the Ripper. Hannibal wrestled with a pleased flush that threatened to warm his face. Will could say the sweetest things, utterly ignorant of their provenance or effect. "The bodies were the display of necessity - the priest that blasphemed had his tongue put in a Bible, the accountant that embezzled had his arms sawn off and placed over the books he cooked - no. No, the Ripper, I think, would eat those organs, make something of them. Perhaps the only good thing those assholes had ever done?" 

Will nodded again, the movement loose and uncoordinated. He smiled drunkenly. "Why so curious, doctor?" He was warming to the attention Hannibal was giving him, and found himself curious about the older man's intentions. 

"Your thought process captivates me," Hannibal responded, assured that Will wouldn't remember this far into the interaction. Will spread his legs, cracking his neck, he groaned happily at the release of tension. He was even more lovely like this, lax and soft. He rolled his head back around, fixing Hannibal with a surprisingly keen look. 

"Is that all that captivates you, doc?" He quirked his lips, the action decidedly saucy, "just my thoughts?"

"No," Hannibal allowed, "not just your thoughts." 

"And what else do you find so… entrancing?" Will moved his right hand, setting it against his thigh. He looked Hannibal pointedly in eye as he trailed his fingers upward to rest near his adductor brevis. Hannibal held his gaze gently, knowing that the eye contact was far more intimate than the lewd display Will was constructing near his nether regions. It took some force of will to avoid glancing down, however, and Hannibal found himself further charmed. He offered a gentle smile to the younger man. 

"Let us not do ourselves the disservice of pretending that you are not a handsome young man," Hannibal admonished, pleased when Will blushed and looked away, "we are both too clever, and too honest for such trivialities." Will smiled, a tiny, delicate thing as he dragged his fingers up his torso, bringing them to rest in an entirely too enticing fashion against his external jugular, caressing the pulse.

"If we're doing away with that pretense," he purred, well and deeply into the sedative, "why not dispense with all of the others," he cut his glassy gaze back to Hannibal's, "Hannibal?" The way Will said it, the look in his eyes. As though he remembered the touch of Hannibal's guiding hands, perhaps remembered seeing him in his fevered wanderings. Perhaps the sedatives were functioning in tandem with Will's incredibly active imagination, allowing for state-dependent learning, giving Will the ability to access memories that he was otherwise ignorant of. 

Hannibal stood, the need to move suddenly insurmountable, despite his obsessively held self control. "Did you know," he stalled himself, looking determinedly out the window, "that alcohol both down-regulates function of the prefrontal cortex while simultaneously stimulating the nucleus accumbens?" He hadn't given Will much wine to begin with, but he also hadn't checked whether Will had eaten recently, or even at all, that day. Hannibal glanced back at the wine glass, finding it nearly empty. Perhaps the drugs had interacted with the wine to intensify the release of dopamine in the ventral striatum. It might explain his sudden agreeability. Will hummed, non-committal, as he lolled his head around to look at Hannibal, focusing with some difficulty on the silk kerchief in his breast pocket. 

"Meaning?" Will prompted, slinking his gaze slightly higher, resting it on Hannibal's pulse. He stroked his own vein. 

Hannibal cleared his throat, "beer goggles, as it were, have a scientific basis." He turned on his heel, stalking back to his chair and reclining in an open mirror of Will's own. "It makes you want sex, and lowers your inhibitions against it."

"Are you coming on to me, doctor?" Will looked positively cheeky, flush with wine and drugs, loose limbs draped about artfully. Hannibal wanted to see him like that, sober and willing, wet with blood and want, begging for his touch. 

"No," he purred, "not yet," Hannibal let the promise hang in the air, gravid and close. He watched, greedy and gluttonous, as Will began to slip from consciousness. 

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone else notice how *eager* Hannibal looks after he tells will to keep that in mind? Omg.  
Also: Not really sure how to rate this, but I suppose it does involve drugging someone, and there is talking of cannibalism. So...?
> 
> Anyway. Here's the citation if you want to read the paper I referred to in the story:  
Alcohol promotes dopamine release in the human nucleus accumbens.  
Boileau I, et al. Synapse. 2003.
> 
> Eta: someone screencapped the moment I'm talking about here:  
https://twitter.com/LilianKrueger/status/1185537735773376517?s=09   
So. Fuckin. Eager.


End file.
